Northern Lights
by Coding Gengar
Summary: Poem. A creature of the undead you became because lost souls can't die; not today.


Nobody says what they fear,  
keeping the secret safe inside their minds.  
What if someone knows?  
What if someone hurts them with fear?

As if sensing the dread that creeps  
upon your feet and your heart,  
a cry is suddenly heard.  
Soft, pleading, full of need and despair.

That's your son, holding onto life,  
not knowing the danger he is in  
even now, even at your home.  
You once thought it a sanctuary, but not anymore.

You were young, immature.  
Didn't know the burning feeling of concern.  
Don't let him go on with his tears,  
protect him as much as you can.

Wouldn't you wish you had someone there  
protecting you instead?  
Silence broken, thoughts compromised,  
oaths of bravery forgotten, dead.

Hurry up and climb the stairs,  
hold your son against your chest.  
Tell him of life, talk to him about love.  
You won't be there much longer to guide him.

* * *

_Hush, dear Harry, don't scare your father._  
_Can't you feel the fear on his shaking arms?_  
_Let him sing to you of peace and safety._  
_Let him try and care for you now that he can._

_Cry, little Harry, when dad takes you to the window:_  
_the graveyard is just across the street,_  
_and he is already too scared to think._  
_Cry, make him come back before his mind flies further away._

_Sweet, sweet, baby boy, let your father cry no more._  
_Let him know the joy of life,_  
_don't let him remain in fear._  
_Try and sing with your still young voice._

* * *

A flash of green startles you,  
it haunts the mind that remembers  
being too close to death to breath.  
Too close, too cold, too near.

But now you laugh, fear set aside.  
Those are your eyes, silly girl,  
your frightened reflection in the mirror.  
Avada Kedavra colored eyes full of fear.

What happened to you, fiery girl?  
What became of the bravery you displayed?  
Venom spit in your ears turned you into this,  
into a ghost afraid of herself.

Hear the cries of your child,  
listen to the steps of your lover  
trying to comfort the endangered son  
you brought to this world.

Lie on your bed and wait for him to come,  
don't move too much, don't breath too loud.  
When did concern turned into fear?  
What made you fear, what made you cry?

Words are dangerous, you know?  
They fill your mind with dread, with terror,  
eating away what you were and begging,  
pleading, to be left alone to grow.

* * *

_Hey, dog, are you back already?_  
_Be careful with who you trust,_  
_they might betray you and those who trusted you._  
_Maybe if you had been brave enough..._

* * *

_Run along, wolf, enjoy the moonless sky._  
_Smell the fear, look at the stars,_  
_live the night, for you will be worse than death_  
_after this dreadful, terrorizing date._

* * *

_How are you, little worm? How is the rat?_  
_Ready to betray? Ready to comply,_  
_to obey the one who haunts your dreams?_  
_Don't you think about anyone else?_

* * *

What does it mean to die?  
Will it hurt and leave your bones aching,  
your mind troubled and your soul lost?  
Oh, but I forget you have no soul.

Lost it, already, didn't you?  
With those rituals and killings and  
indifferent slaughtering of the evil  
and the good, the innocent and the guilty?

Fear laughs in your face.  
It consumes your psyche leaving you a shell  
full of anxious thoughts of nothingness.  
Of the nothingness you will be.

Oh, a child scares you, Master?  
An invalidated prophecy makes you shiver, my Lord?  
Then don't step into that property, Ser,  
or you will be dead.

Be careful, or you might die of fright  
before you even step into the town.  
Just remember today's All Hallow's Eve.  
Don't be afraid of little kids...

Finally in front of your fate,  
sensing the coldness of death.  
Open the door quietly before they hear you.  
And no, I don't mean the living.

Fear the death, my Lord, now that you can.  
After today you will be one.  
Condemned to roam the earth, to never rest.  
All because of a child.

But don't give up on your quest!  
Is most honorable, I assure you.  
You can feel it, can you not?  
The storms you carry tonight are nothing.

Three green lights illuminate the night.  
Shiver goes through those who will see  
what you became at this cursed place.  
Don't worry, they won't look for a ghost.

Yes, didn't I tell you how it ends?  
Your fear won. You died.  
A creature of the undead you became.  
Because lost souls can't die.

Not today.

* * *

**For The Battleship Challenge II in the HPFC forum, using the prompt "a story that takes place at Godric's Hollow"; I chose James and Lily's deaths along with Voldemort's kind-of-death. And _also_ for the Poetry Craze Forum's 100 Prompt Challenge, using prompt #3: concern.**


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